Fish Tank
by LoveyHowl
Summary: A movie starring Michael Fassbender and Katie Jarvis.  Mia and Connor meet unexpectedly five years after their disastrous encounter at her mum's house.  One shot.


**A/N: Fish Tank is a film written and directed by Andrea Arnold starring Katie Jarvis and Michael Fassbender.**

I own absolutely nothing.

* * *

><p>Fish Tank<p>

Sorting It All Out

Five years after her disastrous encounter with Conor O'Reily, Mia Williams found herself living a dream.

She had been set to go with her new boyfriend, Billy, to Cardiff, Wales. After a last unexpected and poignant dance with her mother and sister her sister followed her out to Billy's waiting car. Mia watched with a tear in her eye as Tyler waved her off in the street. When she turned around to face the open road she knew in her heart that she was going in the wrong direction.

"What?" Billy asked her in surprise when she asked him to stop the car.

"I appreciate you, Billy. But I don't love you, you don't love me."

"But I like you, Mia. Sometimes that's better than love," he said hopefully.

"I think you're right on that, but goin' with you now—I'd just be escaping in to you, do you understand? I'm a lot of bad things, but I ain't no user. I can't use you like that. I got to turn my life around and do it the right way. I hope you can understand," she said as she got her things together to get out of the car.

"Wait, wait, Mia," he stopped her by grabbing her arm. "You ain't like no other girls around here, that's for sure. Where will you go, then?"

"To that damn PRU. I'll give it a go, see what I can do with it—it might not be so bad. It gets me out of this bleedin' town. Besides, I've got to make something of myself somehow and come back for my sis. I'd never forgive myself if she ends up like my mum. Or worse. Please tell me that you understand?"

"I do. I get it." Billy scrounged around his glove box then and came up with pen and paper. "This is my postbox...this is my new cell...please keep in touch with me, huh?" he said, as he scrawled the information down and then handed her the little slip of paper. "I want to hear from you, Mia. I want to see you again. At least come visit me sometime, will you?"

"I will. And thanks. I really do appreciate you, Billy. Your friendship has meant a lot to me...means a lot to me. You go easy on the pretty girls, yeah?"

"You're my pretty girl," he said as he leaned in and gave her a kiss. "Alright then." He reluctantly drew away from her.

"Alright then."

* * *

><p>Mia had indeed gone to the PRU and quickly came to the attention of Darby Rhys, an administrator who realized that the girl was bright and driven. With his encouragement she continued to pursue her love of dance. After observing her closely for a month he called her into to his office at lunch time one day for a chat.<p>

"Mia, I am not a fan of this infernal hip-hop music," he began stiffly as she took her seat in front of his desk. "And you don't strike me as being particularly talented."

"Oi, piss off," she rose angrily to her feet.

"Let me finish, Miss Williams. Take your seat or you will be sorry." His tone was severe and commanding enough that she reluctantly obeyed. "There now, that's better. As I was saying, you don't strike me as being particularly talented. Yet. You lack discipline and you need training. You are very much the proverbial diamond in the rough; what you lack in talent you more than make up for with drive and ambition. That you came here at all proves that.

"I know your background, I know of your situation at home. I know _you_, Mia. I was expecting you to come here with a bad attitude and much drama—if you came at all. But here you are, holding your own, trying to learn something and salting yourself away somewhere each evening pursuing a dream. You don't belong here and you and I both know it. When children find their way here that don't belong I make it my business to place them where they do."

"What are you sayin', sir, I don't understand."

"There is a repertory school near here that would suit you far better. On my recommendation an audition has been arranged for you. If they like what they see you are in, young lady. You would start the next day. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Is this a joke? I went to an 'audition' once...they wanted bleedin' pole dancers..."

"Language, Miss Williams. What do you take me for, anyway? I know life can sometimes throw the occasional left hand switch of trickery one's way, but you can be assured that I have referred you to a legitimate institution."

Mia was speechless.

"The PRU is not all bad, Miss Williams. Neither is life. You have yourself to thank for that." Rhys handed her a sheet of paper. "Here is your invitation and instructions; your audition is this Monday coming. With any luck, Miss Williams, I shan't be seeing you on Tuesday."

Mia was still speechless.

"That is all, Miss Williams, you may go."

Mia jumped up out of her chair and gave Rhys a heartfelt and appreciative hug.

"Protocol, Miss Williams," he corrected her sternly. Mia withdrew from him immediately, feeling awkward and embarrassed. Rhys caught her eye when she looked up from the floor and to Mia's stunned delight he gave her a smile and a wink.

* * *

><p>That had been five long years ago. She had pushed Conor O'Reily far into the deepest recesses of her mind. Harder to do was to even begin to forgive herself for that horrible episode with his daughter, which still haunted her and always would.<p>

Mynton Repertory was a modest school but it had been the start that Mia needed. She learned her craft from some of the best street dancers in Essex and scouts from London came three times a year looking for fresh talent. She had worked hard and made a name for herself; by her graduating year she was in serious contention for acceptance to a small but impressive dance company and was beside herself with joy. When she was accepted she knew that she was finally on her way to a real life. She vowed to herself that as soon as she was making any money at all she would send for her sister Tyler.

By her second year in London she was appearing in her first big production as part of an ensemble. Hip-Hop had always been her first love and the show was a mixture of the avant-garde and beats from the streets; the buzz was electric and expectations high. The performance was a triumph. In the audience that night was her sister Tyler, Darby Rhys and her boyfriend, Billy.

When the show was over all three were waiting for her backstage.

"My darling girl," said Mr. Rhys after he gave her a fatherly hug. "That was absolutely beautiful! Brava, my dear, Brava!"

"Why Mr. Rhys, I thought you abhorred Hip-Hop and anything to do with it," she smiled broadly at him.

"I lied, my dear," he said matter-of-factly.

"You did it, you skank! I hate you!" said Tyler through a big bear hug.

"I hate you, too, squirt."

"I'm sorry about mum," Tyler began apologetically.

"That's alright, she'll come 'round one day. When you go home tell her I want to dance with her again, yeah? The three of us." Tyler almost started to cry and nodded her head, too overcome for words. "Come on then, none of that. We're going to have fun tonight, yeah?" she gave her sister another hug. Waiting patiently for her attention was Billy, who held in his hands a bouquet of two dozen perfect red roses.

"I'm so glad you left me, Mia," he smiled sheepishly at her. She brought him into the crush of her embrace and kissed him passionately. "Congratulations, love, it was almost as beautiful as you," he said then.

"I love you, too."

In spite of the odds Mia and Billy had done more than stay in touch; they had seen each other as often as possible and real love between them had blossomed. Billy had started work as an auto repairman with a major motorworks franchise and was an artiste in his own right. He had saved up some money and was looking forward to opening a shop of his own in the very near future. They were young and in love, with a world of options ahead of them, and their wretched past felt long and far away. Mia was on cloud nine.

Mia took the three of them out with the company to a party at the director's home and they all had the time of their lives. Finally the night drew to a close.

"Miss Williams, thank you for a lovely evening. Your success actually makes me feel like an educator again—one that has actually accomplished the task of making the difference in the life of a student."

"That you have, Mr. Rhys—I owe this all to you," Mia said with a tear in her eye.

"No, my dear, as I told you before, you have yourself to thank."

"We could fight over this all night, good sir—final word is mine—it's all your fault," and she gave him a heartfelt hug that he graciously accepted without reserve.

"We will leave it there then. I look forward to coming to see you again, my dear. Miss Tyler, it was a pleasure." Tyler gave him a curtsey. "Young man, you are the lucky one. Cherish her as I know she cherishes you. Good night, all," he left them all with a smile.

Mia took Billy and, a still very excited, Tyler back to her modest flat.

"I love this place, Mia! I wish I could stay..." said Tyler who was exhausted and a little high on three glasses of wine.

"I'm working on it, love. Be patient."

"Is there more wine? I love wine..."

"Yes, there's more, but not for you. Stretch yourself out there on the couch—it's real comfy and all ready for you..."

"Oh, it is! This feels better than my bed!"

"Alright then, try to settle yourself, love. We have all weekend together. Sleep tight," she gave her a kiss to the forehead.

"You treat me like a baby...I'm fourteen now, you know."

"Yes, I know, but you'll always be my baby, you little skank," Mia said lovingly.

"You big skank," Tyler said dreamily. Within minutes she was asleep. Mia removed her shoes and covered her up then turned out the lights to join Billy, who had been watching them both with great amusement as he leaned against the frame of the doorway leading to her bedroom.

"You two are funny. And I can't believe she's out so fast."

"She's always been a lightweight—early to bed and sleeps like the dead. Come on, then, we need to talk," she said as she approached and took him by the hand.

"Okay, that doesn't sound good..."

"No, it's good, I promise."

When they were in her room, with the door shut and locked behind them, she descended upon him with hungry kisses and tackled him to her bed.

"Oh, how I've missed you."

"And I you, love."

"What would you say if I told you that chances are very good that I've landed myself a spot in Wales Millenium Centre and that they want me within the year?"

"I would say don't piss on me, Mia."

"I'm not, Billy."

"You would leave this company? Leave London?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't care where I dance as long as I'm dancing. And I prefer to be dancing where you are."

"Mia, really?"

"Yes, really. Do you want me to come?"

"Do I want you to come?" he pulled the strap of her chemise away from her shoulder and kissed the hollow between her neck and clavicle. "Oh yes, I want you to come," he murmured as he then exposed her breast and planted a sweet kiss near her nipple, "and cum and cum and cum..."

* * *

><p>They spent a fabulous weekend together that passed all too quickly.<p>

"Mia, I don't want to go," complained Tyler when they got to the train station.

"I know you don't love, but you'll be back again real soon. And I have to take you to Cardiff next, so that we can visit with Billy." She and Billy exchanged knowing glances.

"Cardiff? Really? I'm going to be a real jet-setter, I am!"

"Yes, you are. You just keep your grades up."

"I will. Mum's between boyfriends now...it's always easier to study when no one else is about."

"Mrs. Savill still to meet you at the station?"

"Yes. I'm going to spend the night and go to school with Sarah."

"Good. Call me as soon as you get in, yeah?" Mia said after they hugged for the last time.

"I will. Bye, sis, I hate you. Bye Billy."

"I hate you, too."

"Bye, squirt."

Tyler boarded the train and then was off, waving at them from her window seat.

"Well, there I am, love..." Billy pointed to his train. "Walk with me." They reached his platform and kissed for the final time. "You still coming next weekend?"

"Damn straight, man," she said as he boarded and blew a kiss at her.

* * *

><p>The third night of the show Mia received a bouquet of roses just before she went on. She read the note, sure that Billy had sent them, but was shocked when she found that they were not from him at all. The first words of the note confirmed it and chilled her to her core.<p>

_You could still use a bit of sorting out...break a leg, anyway, love. Your old friend, C_

It was all she could do to pull herself together and stop shivering. As her company mates rushed to stage to take their places Mia felt as if all of the lights had gone black and would stay black. Forever.

"Mia, come on...places!" said a fellow dancer as he rushed past her. She rushed to her place on stage, terrified, knowing that somewhere out in the audience a ghost was watching her, invisible and waiting to pounce. She mustered up all of her professionalism and discipline as she tried to focus on her performance and forget all else. Somehow she made it. When the curtain finally drew to a close she found that she was hyperventilating.

"Oi! Someone get the medic!" called a cast mate desperately. "Mia? Mia?" And then everything was black.

When she woke up she was backstage reclined in a corner of her busy shared dressing room.

"Mia? Mia, love?" It was her friend Carol.

"Carol? Did anyone come back here looking for me?" she sat up frantically.

"No...are you expecting someone?"

"No. Someone sent me flowers, someone I don't want to see..."

"Well, no one has been back here. Do you want me to send for security?"

"Uh, I don't know...no...I'm alright."

"I think you're just exhausted, love. You've been working so hard..."

"No harder than anyone else, Carol. I'm sorry, I'm just over-excited."

"Well, that we all are," Carol gave her a kiss to the cheek. "Are those the flowers you were talking about?" she pointed to Mia's seat at the long dressing table. Mia rose to retrieve them.

"The note is gone..."

"Maybe it fell on the floor? No one has been back here looking for you, Mia..."

"Alright, alright. I'm just going to wash my face and go home."

"Do you want security, love?"

"Yes."

Mia was escorted out to her car by the company guard.

"Are you good then, Miss Mia?"

"Yes, Mr. Roue. Thank you so much. I'm sure I'm just being silly. Good night, then."

"'Night, miss."

* * *

><p>Mia got to her flat without incident. She made sure to bolt all of the locks and then went to her couch and collapsed.<p>

"Bravo, love, wonderful show," came his voice from her bedroom doorway. She shot up in a panic, her worst fear realized, leaning in sexy repose against the door frame.

Oh, he was looker that one, even more distinguished-looking than he had been before. He didn't really look older, just more refined. He was wearing a tailored black shirt and black slacks; simple elegance. His hair was still longish, his body still in fine form. Mia rose from the couch on unsteady legs.

"What the fuck are you doing in my flat?"

"Returning the favor, is all. You broke in to my house, remember? Surely you don't mind," he condescended.

"I do mind, you rake. You unfathomable bastard. Get out of here."

"Now, is that any way to greet an old friend, Mia? I just wanted to congratulate you on your success."

"Thank you and goodbye."

"No, dear, not goodbye."

"What in bloody hell do you want, Conor?"

"Well, I'm not sure, yet. Maybe I want to ruin your career before it starts. I mean, when your adoring fans and mates all learn that you're a child-napper...that wouldn't bode well for you at all, now would it?"

"And what about you, you statutory rapist?" she spit at him.

"Oh, ouch, Mia. Very good. You've learned how to fight properly. I must say, adulthood suits you."

"Look, I am more than sorry about Keira. It was wrong of me...I don't even know where that came from," she said then, her voice full of genuine anguish.

"Oh, and she's learned to act as well as dance," he mocked her as he clapped his hands.

"I'm not acting, you bastard."

"You scared the piss out of her, you bitch," he said as he advanced towards her.

"I scared the piss out of myself!" she yelled back at him. He stopped in his tracks.

"I wanted to kill you."

"And you would have been justified." Mia began to cry, her face in her hands.

Conor walked up to her then and pushed her roughly onto the couch. "Please spare me your crocodile tears." He sat down next to her.

"Piss off." She wiped the tears at her eyes with the back of her hands, then crossed her arms defiantly as she moved way from him.

"No, I want to talk, Mia. You ruined my life, I think I owe you the same."

"_I_ ruined your life? You ruined your own life, you skirt-chasing whore. What are you even doing here? How do you even know about me?"

"You're a star on the rise now, aren't you? Everyone knows about you."

Mia just looked at him, a scowl upon her face.

"When you took Keira, it scared the piss out of all of us. Equally. Keira thought you were going to kill her—she was quite traumatized. She's still in therapy. It scared me because I love her more than anything in this world. It scared my wife because up to that point she was willing to close her eyes and let me have my way in exchange for the life: the house, the appearance of normalcy, the promise of an even better life. You see, Mia, you and I had something in common—ambition; the desire for something more. My wife knew that I had it me to be a success; I knew that you had it in you to be a real dancer."

"No you didn't, you just said that to get into my knickers."

"No, I recognized that in you—and look—here you are! That's why you were so much more appealing to me than your mother. Your mother was beautiful, in her way, a fantastic shag for sure. But she was dead inside. Dead and hopeless, with no vision of the future at all."

"There you are—there's the Conor I know. How dare you. Looked to me like you greatly enjoyed that 'dead, hopeless shag'."

"And you would know, wouldn't you, Mia?" he shot back at her, a knowing look in his eyes, his voice full of quiet menace.

"Shut up," she said, her tone a warning.

"After I saw you standing there that night..." he moved closer to her.

"Shut up, I said," Mia hissed at him.

"All I could do then was wish it was you, Mia," he continued wickedly. "There was so much fire in your belly. That she didn't suck the life right out of you was a miracle in itself." Conor dared to reach out and put his hand to her cheek. Mia swatted it violently away from her.

"Shut up! You didn't know her. You didn't know any of us. You don't know what made her that way, you didn't care to know at all."

"After the horrible way she treated you, you defend her? Still?"

"She's my mother, you bastard. She had her faults; she's not a perfect person—who is? Not you...certainly not me."

"But you know I'm speaking the truth. You knew her enough to know that wasn't the sort of life that you wanted for yourself. It's why you got out of there. Wrong or right I was attracted to you because of that. But I underestimated you greatly, Mia. I hurt you badly. I know why you took Keira—she was the nearest, dearest thing to me and you wanted to hurt me back. And that you surely did. And when you did it was a wake-up call from hell.

"Me rutting about was one thing, but jeopardizing my family in the process was another thing entirely. My wife couldn't close her eyes any longer and pretend; the payoff she had been waiting for with me was no longer worth waiting for—she put me out for good. We're divorced now, four years. Keira doesn't know who you were to me. Yet. But I know her mother is chomping at the bit, waiting for the appropriate time to tell her so that she will hate me.

"In the meantime, I finally made good; I'm a wealthy man now and she gets a healthy alimony and child support check from me every month. So, the payoff is even better because she doesn't have to be burdened with me at all, especially as a husband."

"I handled my hurt in the most abominable manner and I am so sorry for that..."

"I know that you were lashing out at me and that you didn't mean to hurt Keira. I'm sorry that I caused you that kind of hurt, Mia, truly I am."

"You hurt us all, you predator, not just me—you do understand that, don't you? My mother was...is...a person...with feelings. All of the women you prey upon are _people_ with feelings. How can I defend my mother? You must not have had one to be able to ask such a question and to treat women the way that you do. You brought out something in me I didn't know existed, Conor. My mother may have treated me horribly but at least she never took me to the river and tried to drown me. I dare say she's a better woman than I am, that 'dead, hopeless, fantastic shag'."

"I know that was an accident, Keira said so herself...I knew in my heart it was true—you couldn't swim and yet you saved her...she told me how desperate you were to get her out..."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it. I can never forgive myself, Conor. To this day and forever... I will never be able to forgive myself. I thought I was dead when you came running across that field, thought that I had drawn my last breath, I really did."

"I wanted to thrash you within an inch of your life, believe me. I think by that point we'd scared each other both sufficiently enough, though, hmm?"

They sat looking at each other in awkward silence, Mia's eyes full of venom, Conor's own bearing the full weight of her words at him.

"What are you doing here, then?"

Conor flashed that devastating smile of his at her.

"One of my ladies is a frustrated artist..."

"One of your ladies? There you are again," she harrumphed at him.

"She hasn't got nearly as far as you, love. She's the reason I'm here. She's been crazy to see this show ever since she first read about it in the trades. I dare say the two of you probably have a few friends in common."

"Really? She's as old as all that?" Mia said snidely.

"Stop that, Mia. I was playing a dangerous game with myself over you then—I never should have touched you and I know it. I know that all of my actions spoke to the contrary, but it was never my intent to actually have you. Everything I did with you, around you, was totally inappropriate and I take the blame for it all. I knew I was in trouble the first time I saw you dancing in the kitchen. I thought I could control myself..."

Mia looked at him long and hard then and he met her unwavering gaze with his own and smiled apologetically at her. Mia rose quickly from the couch but he caught her arm easily.

"Let me go, Conor."

"Sit back down, Mia, I won't bite," he coaxed her.

"You need to go, Conor. We've...sorted things out, yes? You forgive me, I forgive you—let's call it a night, shall we?"

He rose from the couch and took her in his arms then.

"I don't want to go, Mia. I saw you up on that stage and almost fell out of my chair...I recognized you right off..." he said as she squirmed within his embrace.

"What would be the point to this, Conor? I have someone in my life who loves me and I love him. And even if I didn't..." Conor cut her off with a kiss. She resisted him at first but he held her fast to him.

"You taste even better as a woman, Mia," he said when their lips parted. "Was that so bad?" he asked her gently as he held her tight.

"Alright then, you've had your kiss. Go on, now."

"You don't want me to go."

"I promise that I do."

"I had to leave, Mia. Would you have rather I stayed and hurt you and your mother even more? Compromised you further?"

"You think you're not compromising me now?" she asked him angrily.

Conor let her go. "I am so proud of you...and so very happy for you, Mia. With all of my heart, I am."

"Thank you. Now get out," she said coldly.

"I should have waited for you..." he said sadly.

"Are you for real, Conor? Do you think that I'm stupid? You should have waited for me, really? You say that now because what? I've made something of myself..."

"As I always knew that you would..."

"And had I not? Had I had my own council flat, drowning in nappies and too much vodka you would have come back for me? I think not. You did what you'd planned to do all along—you used us and threw us away, just so much disposable flesh. You come to me now, speaking of hurt, and pride and forgiveness; your noble words mean nothing to me...they do not redeem our actions, Conor."

"I loved you, Mia!" he said in great torment. "Was that such a crime?"

"Yes, actually, it was," she retorted without mercy for either of them. He approached her again. "Stop, Conor. You are a handsome devil. Devil. So used to getting what you want. I was young and stupid once. But I am not that girl you left behind so callously five years ago. I was pliable, easily swayed by your charms and seduction. I am not that girl now. This might have played so much better had you been a real man and left us before you fucked me on the couch that night. You need to go."

"Mia..." he came towards her again.

"Stop! I don't believe this supposed love-struck...thing...that stands before me. I don't believe you at all, Conor. I don't know what you think you want, but whatever it is I can't give it to you," she said frantically as she backed away from him.

"You won't give it to me. I see that, now. You know, deep in your heart, that I love you; I've talked to you tonight about more than I've ever talked about with any woman, even my own ex-wife, save for the night you brought Keira back; I've been a coward, I admit, never one for the hard, honest conversation; but not with you. Never with you."

"Oh bullshit! How many times did I hear 'We'll talk tomorrow, Mia'? After you fucked me; after you left and I tracked you down and then took me to the station—'We'll talk some more tomorrow'—you had no intention of talking. Ever. You ran away; and then you just wanted to be rid of me; you were never going to 'talk' to me at all. Lesson learned, Conor, thank you. I'm telling you for the last time: you need to go."

Conor looked as if he was about to speak and then thought better of it. He stood for a moment just drinking her in for the last time. "So beautiful, you are, Mia; a real woman through and through. Your man is a lucky one."

"Yeah, you were always jealous of him."

"What? He's the same one, then? The ASBO Gypsy boy?"

"Piss off, he's more of man than you ever were or will be."

Conor had to laugh in spite of himself. "Good for you, my Mia, good for you."

"You're delusional, you are—I'm not 'your Mia'," she said defiantly.

"Oh, you are, love. Always and forever. Thank you for not calling the cops on me. I shall be following your career; don't be surprised if you look up and see me cheering in the audience on any given night. I promise I'll do nothing more—I won't bother you ever again. Goodbye, Mia." And with that Conor finally left her.

Mia gave a sigh of relief and then went to the door to bolt it tight. As soon as her hand touched the first lock she heard the violent pound of a fist upon it from the other side. Even though she was afraid that she had a serious problem on her hands she yanked the door open angrily.

"Are you bloody out of your fuckin' mind?" she railed at him.

Conor rushed her. "Yes, I am. Mia, I love you..." her took her in his arms and just held her.

"Let me go, you nutter..."

"You want me and I know it...you loved me, once." Conor backed her into her flat and kicked the door shut with his foot.

"I knew nothing of love then. I know what love is now and it is not this."

"I love you, Mia."

"How could you possibly?"

"What, you still don't think you're deserving of it?"

"Oh, I know I'm deserving and I know that I deserve better than you. Get off of me," she struggled to free herself from his embrace.

"You're not fighting me right now—you're fighting yourself and you and I both know it," he murmured into her neck as he restrained her easily.

"Oh!" she grunted exasperatedly. "You just want to fuck and run and you and I both know it," she leveled at him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her gaze upon him then through her exquisite, long, seductive eyelashes.

"Stop this, Mia..." he said, almost hypnotically. Her body went slack. "You want me just as much as I want you; it's fate, woman; I tried to forget you, I did. I came to London for a new start and I was doing just fine until I saw you three nights ago on that stage. I'm sorry to my core for what happened between us before, but I'm not sorry for this..." he gave her hair a gentle tug to bring her around to him fully. "I'm not sorry at all for this moment but you have to tell me that you want me—I won't have you any other way."

"You bastard," she moaned her release, her desire sparked by his words and the tangible evidence of his, growing ever harder against her. "Yes, Conor, I want you..." she said at last. His mouth descended upon hers then, his kiss tender yet hungry and full of fire.

* * *

><p>Mia and Conor barely slept that night. By the wee hours of morning both of them were completely spent, or so Mia thought, and had finally given themselves over to sleep, snuggled in to each other spoon-fashion. She hadn't been out more than ten minutes when she felt his hand run up the length of her leg and then raise it, high and straight, as he marveled at its muscular, shapely exquisiteness.<p>

"Oh no you don't, beautiful girl..."

"Conor? Really? I need some sleep..." she murmured dreamily.

"Plenty of time for sleep later, my Mia," he whispered as he slipped himself inside of her. "See that, love?"

"What?"

"How ready you are for me...how can you tell me that you desire sleep more than this?" he said as he gave her a vicious thrust.

"Oh," she moaned, unable to keep it from escaping her, "you're so full of it, you are..."

"Really?" he punished her for her remark with another intense thrust. "I rather think you're the one who's full of it right about now..." he grunted.

"Do shut up, you," she gasped as she endured more of his divine torture.

"Yeah, that's what I thought..." He turned her over violently, his desire far from sated, and positioned himself above her. "By the way, good morning to you, love..." he smiled down at her, and then began to work his voodoo upon her again.

* * *

><p>"Fancy that..." he said as they lay exhausted beside each other hours later.<p>

"What?"

"I'm still here, Mia, or hadn't you noticed?"

"That you are."

"You doubted me."

"I still doubt you."

He laughed out loud and pulled her closer to him then smothered her with kisses. "You're going to take some convincing, I see..."

"What—again?" she said, alarmed at his unwavering intent.

"I could, but you've got rehearsal and I've got work. We're going to continue this conversation later tonight."

"Conor..."

"No, don't...don't you dare," he warned her as he got out of bed and pulled her up to sitting. "Tonight we can address your cold feet, but not now. I want us to enjoy this; I want you to carry us with you all day and talk to me later of doubts and recriminations, if you must, but not now, Mia. Not now," he said in all seriousness.

Mia found herself helpless not to obey.


End file.
